Medicine Woman
by tomboy101
Summary: I, Dakota Ravenwing, have just moved back to La Push Reservation to take over my grandparents' bookstore. I left five years ago after graduating high school because I didn't want to get mixed up with the Pack, Oh yeah, I know all about the La Push Wolf Pack. I was in training to take over as the tribe's Medicine Woman before I left. Now I'm back. Let the drama begin. Yay.
1. Chapter 1

**Tomboy101:**** Ok, please no one get mad at me. I know I should be working on** _The Nightingale's Song_ **but I couldn't resist when this idea popped into my head. Tell me what you think and in exchange I will update my **_Nightingale_** story, I promise. Thanks!**

I set the last of the boxes on the already cluttered kitchen table. Sweat rolled down my back and I let out a deep sigh. I'd forgotten how muggy the air could get here in La Push after five years away. In her second floor bedroom I could hear my seven year old daughter Alivia already unpacking her toys. I smiled. Regardless of the circumstances under which my baby girl was born I love Ali with everything I have. I'd gone to college after I graduated from the La Push Tribal School so I could give her a better life. Now at the age of twenty-three I've moved back to my small hometown to reopen the book shop I'd inherited from my grandparents when they'd died two years ago. It was called Ravenwing Books and situated on the main drag in La Push.

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs around the table and propped my cowboy booted feet up on another.

"Momma!" Ali yelled.

Well that peaceful moment didn't last long. I sighed and I set my feet back on the wooden floor with a thump. "Yeah baby?" I called as I walked over to the stairs.

"Momma can you come 'ere please?"

I smiled. "Coming sweetheart." I went up the stairs and took a left. The house was a small, compact two story cabin-style place with the first floor consisting of a living room, kitchen, study and half bath. The second floor was three bedrooms, two bathrooms. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall; the other two bedrooms let out into the hall across from the banister overlooking the living room and connected to each other by a bathroom. Ali's room was the one closest to the master bedroom. I walked up to the open door.

Ali sat in the middle of a pile of half empty cardboard boxes on the gray carpet floor, various toys and other such items scattered all around her. Next to her, not looking all that thrilled, was our brindle pitbull-boxer mix. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Ali had fitted Trix with a hot pink ribbon around her neck and our loyal dog had let her. Quickly I fished my camera out of my back pocket, held it up, and snapped a picture. I've always taken pictures of anything and everything Ali does; I don't want to miss a thing.

Ali made a face at me. Her mahogany hair was pulled back into a waist length braid and the fringe over her forehead fell into her expressive hazel eyes. She takes after me in the looks department with her high cheekbones, full lips, and caramel skin, classic Native American, which is good. I don't know what her rapist of a biological father looks like and I really don't want to. "Momma!" She groaned.

"Alivia!" I mimicked. Ali glared. I laughed. "What's up buttercup?"

Ali quickly got over her irritation and pointed gleefully at Trix. "Look Mamma! Don't Trix look pretty?"

"Doesn't," I corrected automatically.

Ali rolled her eyes. "_Doesn't_ she look pretty?"

I entered the room, smiling at Ali. "Trix looks gorgeous," I said as I sat down Indian style next to our dog. Trix stuck her big head in my face and licked my cheek, and not the sweet dainty lick dogs on TV give, oh no. Her fat pink tongue got me from chin to temple with copious amounts of slobber included. "Oh yuck, Trix!"

Trix grinned at me, lips pulled pack and tongue lolling out happily. I wiped most of the slobber away with the long sleeve shirt as my traitorous daughter giggled madly at my misfortune. I shot her a look and her eyes went wide. "No Mamma!" she squealed trying desperately to scoot away. "Don't—" Too late. I pounced.

Ali squealed and giggled, trying in vain to wriggle and squirm out of my clutches as I tickled her mercilessly. Between peals of laughter she managed to shout, "Trix! Help!" Instantly Trix jumped to her feet and barreled her way between us, using her wide shoulders and surprising strength to push me back. Planting herself firmly between Ali and me she wagged her tail nervously. I laughed. Typical Ali, use poor Trix for defense.

"Alright big girl," I said, holding my hands up in peace, "alright."

Trix woofed and grinned her doggy grin. Ever since we had brought Trix home from the shelter as a one-year-old two years ago she had been protecting Ali. It was amazing. I hadn't even had to train her to protect my daughter she just did. When Ali was home Trix couldn't be pulled from her side for anything which was a great comfort to me.

Ali hugged Trix. "Good Trixy," she crooned as she rubbed Trix's ears.

I shook my head and looked around the room. Ali's walls had been painted lavender per her request and her furniture had been set up by the movers last week, all she had left to do was put her clothes and toys away—which had yet to happen. I frowned at my daughter. "Ali," I said. Ali looked up at me with big, innocent hazel eyes. She knew that tone and thought if she turned up the cute I'd be less irritated. Not gonna work this time, sorry kiddo. "I thought you were supposed to be putting all your stuff away, not playing with your toys."

Ali quickly averted her eyes. "Sorry Mamma," she muttered.

"It's alright, honey, just get it done then we can go out to dinner, okay?"

Ali's head shot up. "Dinner?"

I nodded. "Yep," I said, popping the 'p'. "There's a diner in town and they serve Mac n' Cheese and chocolate shakes and French fries…"

I don't think I've ever seen Ali move so fast. One minute she was hugging Trix, the next she was dashing around her room stuffing things into drawers. Trix watched her, turning her head this way and that to keep Ali in her sights. I smiled and shook my head. "Let me know when you're done," I called over my shoulder as I exited her room.

"Yes Mamma!"

Still smiling I went back downstairs to the kitchen. The majority of our worldly possessions had already been properly placed in our new house. The kitchen was organized, our massive DVD collection was already in the glass door case by the TV, and the other such knick knacks we'd collected over the years were already set out. The only thing left to do downstairs was hang up pictures, organize the kitchen, go shopping for groceries to fill our fridge—something I intended to do tomorrow—and haul the last box of my clothes up to the master bedroom. I grabbed the box I had set down earlier and took it upstairs. As I passed Ali's room I peeked in. She didn't seem to have lost any steam as she continued to unpack but Trix had gotten out of her way by jumping up onto her bed. I shook my head and went to my own room.

My room had the same gray carpet as Ali's but the walls were white. My bed was a king made out of dark red wood covered in a sky blue comforter. A chest of drawers and a bookcase, both made of the same dark red wood, were pushed up against the wall on either side of a large curtain covered window and on the opposite wall a marble topped vanity area had been built into the wall next to a good sized walk-in closet with more room than I actually needed. On the other side of the vanity was another white door that lead to the bathroom. This bedroom was bigger than the room I'd had while I was going to school, a lot bigger. Back then Ali and I had lived in a small two-bedroom apartment. Now we had an entire house all to ourselves. I mean, it wasn't as spacious as the house I had grown up in with my grandparents but we had an extra bedroom in case we had guests! Not to mention Ali would go to the Tribal School starting Monday—it was now Saturday—where she wouldn't be made fun of for being the only Native kid in a hundred mile radius. Needless to say I was all kinds of excited.

I set my box down next to four others at the foot of my bed and started in on unpacking all my junk. It was mostly clothes, accessories and other such fashion items, including make-up, with a few framed pictures and a lot of books. The clothes went in the closet and drawers; my accessories and make-up went to the built-in vanity, I'd organize it later; I hung or set the pictures out; and the books filled my bookcase.

Two hours later I was almost done when Ali came running into my room, followed by a barking Trix. "Done!" she yelled.

I was crouched next to one of my boxes and had turned on my heels when she came in only to be caught completely by surprise when I was suddenly knocked over. Ali sat triumphantly on my stomach and beamed down at me. "Gotcha!" she cried. Trix pranced around us whining.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

I reached up and poked Ali's ribs. She squeaked and squirmed away. "Hey! No fair! I got you!" She poked me back which made me squirm. Yes, we are both very ticklish.

"Alright, alright," I held my hands up in surrender, "you got me."

Ali grinned.

"So you're all done unpacking?"

"Ah huh."

"You sure?"

Ali nodded.

"I guess you want food then?"

Ali nodded again. "Mac n' Cheese and a chocolate shake and French fries!"

"Well if we're going into town you need to get off me and get changed into some clean clothes."

Ali quickly scrambled off me. I sat up with a grunt. "Go on," I said, "go get changed and I'll meet you downstairs."

I watched Ali run out of my room before getting up and rooting around in my newly organized drawers for a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. I grabbed out a pair of dark jeans with white double stitching, a black lace-edged tank top and a blue and white flannel shirt.

As I dressed my mind drifted back to the last time I'd been in La Push. It had been four or five years ago back when the Pack had just started growing. Oh yeah, all the Quileute legends about being descended from wolves were true and so were the ones about the treaty with a coven of Vampires. It was a closely guarded secret in the tribe, only the wolves, their Imprints, and the Elder Council knew. The only reason I was privy to such a big secret was at the time the boys started phasing I was in training to eventually take over my grandfather's position as Medicine Man, only I would have been the Medicine Woman. Of course, I was eighteen at the time, getting ready to go to college—no, my grandfather was not happy about that but as I was of legal age there wasn't shit he could do to stop me, especially since I'd just come into the trust my parents had set up for me before they died—and the mother of a two-year-old. With all that insanity going on I wanted nowhere near all the danger. Not to mention that whole Imprint situation. Granddad had told me about Claire, the two-year-old Imprinted on by Quil Ateara. No offence to Quil, I'm sure he's a really nice guy, but I'm selfish and didn't want to run the risk of some wolf Imprinting on my daughter, or me for that matter. I wanted both of us to enjoy life before we settled down with some wolfy wall of muscle.

As soon as my senior year of high school had ended I'd moved Ali and myself down south to Baton Rouge, Louisiana so I could attend Louisiana State University, go Tigers, yay (please note the sarcasm). Granddad and I had this big knock-down, drag out fight over the move. It was an entire year before we spoke again and even then I hadn't come back to La Push, my grandparents had visited me.

Now I was back and I couldn't decide if I was entirely happy with that turn of events. I mean, I wanted to take over Ravenwing Books—I loved that shop—but I was worried. One of the last times I had spoken to my grandmother she had assured me the Vampire threat was gone save for the occasional one passing through but still…

"Mom! Hurry up!"

I jolted from my musings and scrambled to my feet. "I'm coming!"

I checked myself over in the vanity mirror. By the white man's standards I'm exotic but, really, I'm very simple when it comes to Native Americans. I have mocha brown skin, high cheekbones, full lips, and a round face. The only non-Native things about me—the slight curl to my hip length mahogany hair and hint of green to my otherwise unremarkable brown eyes—I got from my Romani mother. I stand about five feet four inches tall and have hourglass curves I'm very proud of. After having Alivia my stomach isn't as flat as before but I don't mind, just more of me to love. After I made sure I looked at least semi-decent I shoved my feet into a pair of gray converse and went downstairs.

I found Ali sitting on the floor in front of the large 60" plasma TV hanging on the wall in the living room playing tug-of-war with Trix. Dressed in a pair of jeans, a purple shirt and sneakers she looked ready to go. "Where's your sweatshirt?" I asked.

"Car."

"Alright then. Let's go."

Trix dropped her rope toy, ears perking up as she looked at me hopefully. "Oh no, big girl," I apologized, petting her ears. "We'll go later, I promise."

Trix hmphed at me and jumped up on the blue leather couch. She obviously wasn't pleased with me.

"I don't think Trix likes that excuse Mamma," Ali teased.

"Yeah, yeah. Get in the car."

Ali flashed me a grin. I followed her outside, grabbing my off-brand black faux leather purse off the hook by the door. I locked the backdoor then clicked the unlock button on my key fob for the car. Ali scrambled up into the cab of our white 2001 Ford F150 4X4 given to me for my sixteenth birthday. I followed her lead, started up the truck and we were off.

The unpaved road into the tiny town on the La Push Reservation was muddy from the most recent rain. We bumped along for fifteen minutes, singing loudly along with the old country radio station. When we got to the main drag I pulled into the parking lot of La Push Diner and parked out front next to several other beat up cars and trucks.

The diner was a small, old fashioned place. The front was solid windows with a neon green open sign blinking in the door. Inside was a plastic topped counter with barstools and vinyl booths. A few people who looked familiar but I couldn't for the life of remember their names sat eating in the booths. A lit up jukebox was pushed into a corner and I assumed it was playing music.

Ali skipped up to the door and pushed it open. Above her head a little bell dinged. The smell of good, homemade food flooded my nose and Johnny Cash's "I Walk the Line" floated to my ears.

I followed Ali over the counter and sat next to her on a barstool. She grabbed one of the plastic encased menus and looked at it seriously. After a minute she set her menu down. "I want Mac N' Cheese," she said, looking at me.

"I want a cheeseburger," I told her.

"With French fries?" she asked. I nodded. "Good," she said. I knew she was planning on stealing my fries and dipping them into her Mac N' Cheese.

I pulled a deck of cards out my purse and held them up to her. "Go Fish?" I suggested. She nodded and I dealt the cards.

We had just started our game when a young woman walked up to us from behind the counter. She was younger than me by a few years, roughly nineteen or twenty, and dressed in a pale yellow waitress outfit. She held a notepad in one hand, a pencil in the other. The nametag pinned to her collar read 'Kim'.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, "my name's Kim and I'll be your server. What can I get you to drink?"

I looked up and returned her smile. "Hi," I said. "We'll have two waters, please, and the munchkin will have a bowl of Mac n' Cheese and I'd like a cheeseburger with French fries."

"Will that be all?"

I glanced at Ali. She nodded and went back to studying her cards. "For now," I said looking back at Kim with a smile.

"Alright," she said. "That'll be out in a minute."

"Thanks."

"You know," she said after a beat, "you look really familiar but I haven't seen you in here before I don't think."

I shrugged. "We just moved back," I explained. "We've been gone for a couple of years but now that I've finished college I'm back to take over my grandparent's business."

"What business?" Kim wanted to know.

"Ravenwing Books," I said.

Kim blinked then her eyes went wide. "Dakota?" she breathed.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said sheepishly.

"Kota, it's me, Kim."

Now it was my turn to stare. Last time I had seen Kim Porter she was a gangly little sophomore. I'd tutored her in Geometry my senior year. She was one of those extremely sweet but very shy girls more comfortable with homework than people. We'd gotten along really well and in exchange for my tutelage I'd gotten her to watch Ali every once in a while. "Kim?"

Kim nodded happily.

"Oh my gosh! Kim you look great. How long has it been?"

"Five years," Kim said happily.

"That long? Wow!" I turned to Ali. "Alivia," I said, "this is my old friend Kim Porter; she used to babysit you when you were little."

Ali smiled up at Kim. "Hi," she said with a grin.

Kim smiled back. "Hi," she said. "You've gotten so big, Ali. And you're so pretty, just like your mom." Kim smiled at me and I blushed. "Well, I've got to get your order in but you and I have to catch up soon."

I nodded. "Definitely. You have to tell me all the local gossip."

"Sounds great." Kim ripped a bit of paper form her notepad and scribbled some numbers down. "Call me and we'll grab lunch," she said handing me the paper.

"Will do." I tucked the phone number into my pocket. Kim smiled at us one more time and walked into the kitchen.

Ali looked at me curiously. "Who was that?"

I shook my head. "That was Kim. Like I said, she used to babysit you sometimes. I tutored her in Geometry."

"Geometry?"

"Math with shapes," I clarified.

"Oh. She seemed nice."

"Kim is very nice."

"Are you going to have lunch with her?"

I looked back to where Kim had disappeared. I couldn't put my finger on it but there had been something different about her, something not quite normal. "Probably," I said.

* * *

Kimberly Anne Porter ran into the Uley residence screaming at the top of her lungs for Paul Lahote. Jared Cameron, her Imprint, boyfriend, and one-day husband, jumped to his feet. "Kim!" He cried, running to her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Where's Paul?!"

"I'm right here!"

Kim whirled. A tall man, way over six feet, exited the bathroom off the living room. His soft black hair was cut short and his chocolate eyes were wide with curiosity as he looked at Kim.

"She's back!"

"What?" Paul asked. "Who's back? Kim talk slower."

Kim took a deep breath but the flush on her tan cheeks and sparkle in her brown eyes didn't fade. "You'll never guess who I just ran into at the diner. Dakota Ravenwing! She just moved back to take over Ravenwing Books!"

Every creature in the house froze. Even the annoying mosquitoes stopped buzzing. Jared didn't even dare to breathe. Dakota Ravenwing. Everyone in the pack knew the story. _Damn that bitch_, Jared thought furiously. Their Graduation Day, as she's crossing the stage, Paul looks into her eyes for the first time ever and he Imprints. He tries to find her after the ceremony but can't so he goes to her house the next day only to learn from her grandfather that she and her two-year-old daughter are gone and he doesn't know exactly where. Cue a heart broken Paul. Granted it was only a half Imprint because the girl was completely oblivious to the bond but still, Paul hadn't been the same. The assurances of Dakota's grandparents that she would come back were only comforting because Mitchell Ravenwing had the Sight, one of his gifts as the tribe's Medicine Man.

So Paul dealt with the pain and after a few years, in combination with all the drama with the Cullens, he had managed to forget, sort of. Sure there were occasional bouts of moodiness and the irrationally short temper but he had gotten better...

"Paul," Jared said as calmly as he could, "just take a deep breath."

But Paul was nowhere near even the idea of calm. He was shaking all over, muscles rippling beneath his skin. "Kim, go to the kitchen," Jared said, attention focused on Paul.

Kim didn't hesitate. She wasn't stupid and while scars worked for Emily she seriously doubted she could pull them off. Jared grabbed Paul by the arm and dragged his fellow wolf-man outside, only relinquishing his grip when they were a safe distance from the little yellow house.

Paul hadn't stopped shaking since Kim said Dakota's name. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated. Jared took several hasty steps back as Paul's body began to contort, shift, and change. There was a loud ripping noise and shreds of cloth that had once been Paul's khaki shorts floated down to the ground like snow.

Before Jared could phase too Paul turned his fluffy dark gray tail and bolted into the woods. Jared stared after him, lost at what to do. In the distance a wolf howled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tomboy101:**** thank you to all my reviewers, **Le Perrie Edwards**,**blaahblaahblaah**, **lightbabe**, **grandma406**,** **and **Wolpack9610**!** **I'm so glad y'all liked this story. As a quick disclaimer, I don't own **_Twilight_ **(and now that I've started watching **_My Little Pony_** whenever I see that word I think of the unicorn pony who is the main character****) which is unfortunate because I could have done it so much better (jk jk). Thanks everyone again for reading my story and enjoy chapter two!**

* * *

After we ate our dinner, which was absolutely delicious, Ali and I went home. By that time it was dark and almost Ali's bedtime. She took a bath complete with bubbles then I tucked her into bed. Trix followed me downstairs. As I went over to the DVD case she curled up on the couch. I hadn't ordered basic cable yet so the only thing to do was watch a movie. I opened the DVD case and studied its contents. The Fast & Furious movies were present, as were the Harry Potter movies, the Indiana Jones movies, practically every single Disney movie ever made including all the classics, and quite a few seasons from a number of different TV shows (Scooby Doo included).

I grabbed a DVD at random and put it in the player. As the MGM lion came on the screen I settled down on the couch next to Trix who immediately readjusted so I was her pillow. I cuddled with her, resting my head on her soft fur. I blinked sleepily. Today had been a long day. I was still getting used to being back without the Baton Rouge werecat clan there. It might seem silly but I missed them and their insanity. I even missed cooking for them. I could see Maura Babtiste—the pseudo den mother—smiling at me.

I woke up curled on the couch, my head resting on Trix's back. It took me a minute to figure out where I was. I licked my lips and blinked. Trix was staring intently out the window, cropped ears perked. "What is it girl?" I asked. My mouth felt dry, like it was full of cotton balls. The end credits for whatever movie I'd put in were playing on the TV screen but Trix was looking out the window to the side of the door. "What is it Trix?"

Trix woofed but made no move to get off the couch. It was still dark out. I checked my watch; 9:57. I didn't hear anything outside. It was both comforting and unsettling. I was used to city noise but before that I'd loved the quiet of La Push.

I picked up the TV remote and pushed the off button. The credits and music cut out. I stood slowly; my left leg was asleep and I shook it to get rid of the pins and needles sensation. Trix watched me carefully as I went into the kitchen and got myself a glass of water. I could see her tracking me with bright brown eyes over the bar. "I know I promised a walk, girl, but not tonight. It's late and we need to get to bed."

Trix sighed. Her English was pretty good for a dog and she knew the words "walk" and "bed" in the same sentence usually wasn't good for her. I patted my leg. "Come on, bedtime."

Trix sighed again but followed me up the stairs, breaking off to enter Ali's room. I heard her jump up on my daughter's bed and I smiled. Such a comfort.

I entered my bedroom and looked around. It wasn't quite done yet, everything was out of the boxes but most of it wasn't put away yet. It all looked disheveled, sort of like a tornado had gone through. I sighed and sat heavily on my bed. Slowly, bones aching, I pulled off my boots and removed my flannel shirt. Today had been a long day that started yesterday. I'd driven all night to get us here this morning. My eyelids drooped. I was so tired.

* * *

The next thing I knew a bird was chirping very loudly somewhere just outside my window. I jerked away and stared up at the ceiling. Sunlight stained the white plaster yellow. I groaned. All I wanted was to go back to sleep. Why did the sun have to rise so early? I lifted my arm above my head and checked the silver watch on my wrist. 6AM. That damn bird woke me up at 6 in the freaking morning. I was gonna get my shotgun and shoot it.

I was still wearing my jeans and tank top from yesterday and I hadn't had a shower yet. Slowly, bones aching, I stood and headed into the bathroom, stripping as I went. After a nice hot shower I felt ten times better. Sweet pea body wash and Pantene shampoo and conditioner made all the difference.

When I got out of the shower I changed into a pair of jean shorts and an old t-shirt. My sopping wet hair went up into a stringy ponytail and I didn't even bother looking in the mirror. I tried to sneak past Ali's open bedroom door but Trix heard me. Her head popped up and at seeing me she jumped off Ali's bed and followed me downstairs. I went into the kitchen and pulled down two bowls. The only food I had in the house was cereal, Frosted Flakes to be precise. It wasn't much of a breakfast but it would have to do until I could go into town and buy groceries later.

I left one bowl sitting on the counter complete with spoon but otherwise empty while I poured cereal and milk into the other. I sat down at the old wooden table in the middle of the kitchen with my breakfast and was about to start eating when Trix whined at me. I stopped, spoon halfway to my mouth, and glanced down at her. She was looking up at me with the begging please-give-me-food look. I sighed. "Fine." I stood and went over to the small walk-in pantry beside the fridge. The only human food we had might be cereal but we were all stocked up on dog treats because Spirits forbid Trix not get her daily morning treat. Spoiled rotten mutt.

I tossed her a beef jerky treat, rinsed my hands off and went back to my breakfast. I ate slowly. The house was quiet; I heard nothing but the songs of birds and Trix munching on her treat. It was kind of nice. I love my daughter but sometimes it's nice to be alone in the quiet.

When I finished my cereal I put my bowl in the sink and went into the living room. The kitchen was the only room in the house that was completely unpacked and organized. The living room was mostly unpacked but there were a few pictures to be hung and some knickknacks to be placed. I went for the biggest box first. It contained family photos, mostly of me and Ali, several of the Baton Rouge werecat Clan, and a couple of my parents and grandparents, including both their wedding photos. A lot of these would need to be hung up and I honestly was too lazy.

I sighed and stepped away from the box without removing any of the pictures. Instead I headed to the study. This room was completely packed up except for a heavy wooden desk pushed up against a wall under a window. It would take me forever to get all this done. I almost groaned.

The boxes were stacked up against the wall opposite the desk. I went over to them and started in on the topmost box. It was full of jars and vials, some empty some containing different colored liquids. With a sigh I reached in and pulled the first jar out, placing it gently on the built-in shelves lining the study's back wall. The rest of the jars and vials followed the first. They were mostly full of ointments and little potions and serums. Each was neatly labeled and the ones that contained acidic substances were extremely breakable, big time handle with care.

A couple hours later I had unboxed a little over half of this room's junk. Trix had watched me from the hallway but when I paused before opening the eighth box she sat up suddenly and woofed quietly. I looked up.

"Mom?" a voice called. Sounded like Alivia was awake.

"In the study!" I called back.

I heard the soft padding of bare feet and creak of the staircase and a moment later Ali appeared in the study doorway. She still wore her PJs (long gray shirt and red Capri bottoms) and her brown hair was a tousled, waist-length mess. I suppressed a smile. "Haćh ch'í sleepy head," I greeted her in Quileute. "How's it goin'?"

Ali glowered at me. "Too many words," she said grumpily.

I laughed. "C'mon baby girl, its"—I checked my watch—"ten o'clock. Sun's been up for four hours."

Ali's scowl deepened. Obviously she was not amused. "What's for breakfast?" she asked.

"Cereal," I said. "Come on, I'll get it for you." I ushered her back down the hallway and into the kitchen. While she sat I placed the white plastic bowl in front of her then got out the Frosted Flakes and milk. "So how'd you sleep?" I asked as I poured her breakfast.

"Bon," she said through a yawn.

I smiled. "Mwen kontan," I answered back in Creole. Creole was the language of the Baton Rouge werecats and they had seen fit to teach it to both Ali and myself. Now that we weren't living with them anymore the only way to keep our knowledge was by regular use. Plus, Ali was almost as comfortable speaking Creole as she was English. I wasn't really sure how I was going to break her of the habit and get her start speaking more Quileute.

Ali started in on her breakfast and I put the milk and cereal away. Trix, who had followed us into the kitchen, started up her begging routine at Ali's feet. Ali looked down at her and shook her head. "Nah-uh. My food," then she went back to eating.

I suppressed a grin. Ali didn't share food, not even with her beloved puppy. "Eat up," I told her, "we're going grocery shopping as soon as you're dressed."

Ali blinked up at me but didn't say anything, choosing instead to continue shoveling spoonfuls of Frosted Flakes into her mouth. When she was done, milk drunk and all, she handed me her bowl. I placed it in the sink and followed her upstairs. While she went into her room I went into mine and made a beeline for the converse I'd left on the floor last night. La Push really wasn't a fancy, get-all-dressed-up-just-to-go-to-the-grocery-store kind of place. I was good to go in my t-shirt and jean cut-offs.

Converse tied securely to my feet I made my way to Ali's room. My little girl was standing in the middle of her room brushing her hair. "You almost ready?" I asked.

Ali shook her head. "Can you braid my hair?"

I entered her room and sat on her bed. "Sure, c'mere."

Ali came over to me and handed me the brush. I ran the bristles through her thick mahogany hair a few times before I started on the braid. Ali kept very still as I braided her hair into one long French braid. When I was done the rope-like braid ended at the small of her back and I tied it off with one of the black hair-ties I always keep on my wrist. "There," I said, flipping the braid forward over her shoulder, "all done. Ready?"

"Yep!"

Trix barked from her place on Ali's bed. I reached over and ruffled Trix's floppy ears. "Good girl." Looking back to Ali I said, "Alright-y then. To the car we go."

"Ras ou!"

Trix barked again and jumped off the bed, following the racing Ali out of the bedroom and all the way downstairs. I trailed after them, still smiling, stopping in the kitchen to grab my purse and keys. Trix stood impatiently at the front door looking hopefully up at me. I shook my head. "Sorry big girl. I'll take you for a walk later though, I promise."

Ali was standing by the truck, hand planted firmly on the passenger side door. "Beat ya!" she crowed.

Rather than answer I unlocked the truck and got in. Once Ali was settled and both our seatbelts were firmly in place I put the truck in gear and headed back into La Push. Much like the night before, we seemed to hit every pothole in Creation on our drive into the tiny Reservation town. Across the street and several doors down from the diner was the La Push grocery store and gas station.

I parked in front of the store next to an old red Jeep that had seen better days, turned off the engine and exited the truck. Ali followed after me and together we entered the store, the small brass bell above our heads chiming merrily as Ali pushed open the door. Inside the store hadn't changed all that much since I'd last been in. It still resembled a convenient store that was a bit on the large side and selling more than just the average gas station junk including fresh fruit and vegetables from what I was almost sure were local gardens.

To the right of the door was the register complete with surly looking teen who obviously wanted to be anywhere but there. I grabbed one of the small carts just on the inside of the door and began pushing it down isles, grabbing things off the shelves that I thought we would need. Several times Ali tried to convince me to buy candy or extremely unhealthy junk food which I gently refused. I did grab us ice cream, however, mint chocolate chip ice cream to be precise. Ali beamed at that.

By the time we had gone through the whole store I'd gotten most everything on my mental list. There were only a few items I still wanted to get and they could either be found at other stores in La Push or in Forks. I paid for our groceries and together Ali and I managed to carry everything out to the car (no thanks to that lazy ass teenager who was supposed to be helping the customers).

Ali had just gotten into the truck and I was pushing the cart back to the store when a rusted old pick-up pulled into the lot. A ridiculously muscled man-boy jumped out of the driver's seat, went around the back, pulled out a wheelchair and carried over to the passenger door. I froze. My senses tingled. Medicine Men and Women don't have a lot of extra supernatural power, we're a strictly human bunch, but one of the few things we can do is sense Spirit Warriors, that was how I found the Baton Rouge Clan, and right now the mental voice inside my head was practically screaming "Wolf! Wolf!"

The man-boy stayed on the other side of the truck doing God knows what. I picked up the pace, trying to return the grocery cart before the wolf noticed me. The Quileute pack knows instinctively who their Medicine Folk are and that wolf could probably smell me even from this distance.

I shoved the cart inside, not bothering to put it back with the handful of others—that teenager could earn his paycheck by putting it up himself—and turned, about to run back to my truck. Unfortunately that didn't exactly happen because right behind me was the wolf boy and he was wheeling none other than Billy Black, the tribe's chief.

I stumbled and averted my eyes, mumbling a hasty apology.

"It's alright," Billy said cheerfully.

I nodded at him and tried to step around him and the wolf who was obviously his son Jacob Black. I was almost home free when a strong brown hand shot out and gripped my bicep. "Wait."

My gaze shot up and met his burning brown eyes. He seemed surprised at his action but he had nothing on what I was feeling.

"Jacob?"Billy looked between his son and me. "What's going on?"

Jacob released me like my arm was on fire. "Sorry Mr. Black," I mumbled. "I have to go."

Before either of them could stop me I ran, scrambling into my truck. Ali looked at me curiously as I shoved the key into the ignition and started the engine. "Mom," she asked, "who were those guys?"

"N-nobody," I said as I pulled out of the parking lot. My voice shook slightly but I kept my eyes on the road. I'm no coward but meeting a wolf warrior had not been on my agenda for today.

Ali didn't ask any more questions but I could feel her watching me. For a seven-year-old she was very intuitive. Hopefully I could avoid answering her questions if we could just get home.

We got back to the house in record time. Probably due to my ridiculous speeding. After we carried in the groceries—Trix barking and wagging her tail happily—and put them away Ali went back upstairs to continue unpacking and I started in on the boxes in the living room. I spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking. And praying. Lots and lots of praying. And stewing in misery. I'd run into a wolf my second day back. Just. Fucking. Great. And it was Jacob Black, the rightful Alpha, and his dad Billy Black, the tribe's chief. Yep, it's official. I have the worst luck in the whole wide world.

I took a deep breath to try and steady myself. It wouldn't do to get all worked up. I had things to do today and getting upset wasn't helping. I checked the wall clock. It was 2:03. I needed to register Ali for school today and we had an appointment with the Reservation elementary school principal at 2:30. Damn.

I rushed up the stairs, stopping at Ali's room to tell her to put on a cute shirt, before running to my room. I tore through my jeans drawer and came up with a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. Next I went for my closet where I found a nice purple button down blouse and my favorite black high heeled boots. I changed quickly, zipping up my boots and putting on a thin line of black eyeliner and one coat of black mascara.

"Ali, time to go!" I said peeking into her room.

"Almost ready," Ali said from her bed where she was putting on Sketchers shoes.

I checked my watch, 2:10. We had twenty minutes to get to the school, find the principal's office, and not be late. "Hurry up!" I dashed down the stair and grabbed my purse. Trix looked up at me mournfully and, being the big softie that I am, I sighed and said, "Come on girl."

Trix yipped happily and followed me out to the truck. I opened the door and she hopped in, grinning broadly like this was the best thing to ever happen. I guess in her world it was but really she was just filling the cab with dog smell. Completely ignoring proper etiquette my dog crawled right into the driver's seat.

"Oh no, big girl. Nope, move." I shoved her out of the way to the middle seat. She sighed, giving me this pouting look which I ignored as I situated myself in the now dog hair infested driver's seat. Trix and I only had to wait a few moments before Ali came running out of the house. She jumped into the passenger seat and was immediately greeted by a big wet tongue courtesy of Trix. Ali laughed and pushed her dog away. "Down Trixy," she giggled.

"Buckle up," I said as I started the truck. After I heard the satisfying click of her seatbelt I pulled out of the drive and headed into town.

* * *

**Quileute**

Haćh ch'í – good morning

**Creole**

Bon – good

Mwen kontan – I'm glad

Ras ou – race you


End file.
